a fresh start

There’s something heartbreaking about September light in Seattle. The trees are filled with light, liquid and soft as baby’s hair.

I love the fall. By the calendar, January is the beginning of the year. All that grey and cold hardly feels like a fresh start, however. If we throw away the calendars and look at the world around us, certainly May marks the start of the year. Everything blooming. Fruit back in the markets. But I’m hard-wired this way: September is really the start of it all.

September means new pencils with blunt ends, thick notebooks with the pages not yet besmirched with words, clothes still crinkly from never being worn. As a student, which for me meant nearly thirty years, the start of school meant cracking open the spine of a fat textbook for the first time. Even if it was for an economics class, the inky smell of those glossy pages thrilled me. (I still remember the purple words and nose-biting odor of the mimeograph machine, fondly.) And as a teacher, which was another decade for me, September meant an entire ocean of new faces, stories to tell, classrooms to pace, the chance to do it better this time.

That’s what’s appealing about schools, and teaching in them in particular. Even if June ended in tears, September meant coming back to the place you knew before, but wiser this time. Every year, I taught One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and lessons on indefinite pronouns and the word ineffable the first day of classes. Even though the students were new to me, the classrooms a blank space, I knew the rhythms of my year before I went in.

Teaching school was the safest fresh start I ever had.

But this September? Everything has been blown wide open. Any notions I had of schedule? They’re gone, replaced instead by a crying baby whom I pat and shush, jiggle and kiss. The hours of the day are measured out in the light falling through the living room window, as we sit together on the end of the couch. I have never learned so much, so fast, as I have these six weeks. And this knowledge? It won’t end up in textbooks, or be written about in The New York Times. Now, I know how to rub my daughter’s back like I am smoothing out air bubbles from badly laid wallpaper, in order to relieve her of gas. I know the sound of her voice, a little chirrup, when she talks to the black-and-white stuffed orca that lies on her playmat on the floor. I know the sound of her cries, insistent and bleating, at 3:30 in the morning, and I can tell within twenty seconds if she needs food or if she’s merely bored.

Next September, I won’t start again with another newborn. I’ll just keep learning her instead. I don’t have a lesson plan here. There is no attendance to take, no state mandates to fulfill, and no test that shows my competency level. (There’s also no merit raise being offered.) Nothing here is safe, in a way.

I love this September most of all. The light. Oh, the light.

September sunlight is heartbreaking because the beauty is ephemeral. The green leaves filled with light will fade and fall within a few weeks. It’s easy to take summer for granted. These weeks insist on a different kind of attention.

Everyone has told me how quickly these days and years go, these moments of being with a child and holding her. I believe them now. Little Bean is six weeks old. Within a few days, she’ll be seven weeks. She has changed so much from those frail days in the hospital. Today, she is robust and booming, highly alive. She gained 2 1/2 pounds in the last three weeks. The Chef and I both swear we can watch her grow bigger on the changing table beneath our hands.

She smiled at me last week. Every late night was worth it, after that.

Right now, as I write, I can feel her breathing on my chest, as she sits curled up in the carrier attached to my body. And I had to pause from writing to lean down and kiss the top of her head.

I can’t imagine life ever feeling staid again.

But here’s the deal. There’s fear in these wide-open spaces. Where do you go when you can go anywhere?

Before Little Bean arrived, I swore to myself, and wrote here, that this would not become a mommy blog. Hundreds of other women have written those before me, and they have done such a hilarious, helpful job that I can’t imagine the world needs one more. And this is, at its heart, a site about food. How food connects me with the people I love. Kitchen disasters. Unexpected tastes that zing on my tongue. Recipes that don’t work. Saying yes to life by forgetting everything and simply tasting my life.

Oh, and some gluten-free food.

How does a baby fit in with that?

For the past few weeks, I’ve been struggling with what to write here when I return. How can I just go back to telling stories about food and offering recipes as though my life has not been split open, along with my heart? How can I not tell the hilarious stories about this darling baby, like the fact that she calms down and grows fascinated when we put her in a basket on the kitchen floor next to the dishwasher running? And the fact that she hates the loud clatter of dishes being loaded into the machine, and cries every time, so I rarely have the chance to put her next to her favorite spot? How could I not tell the harrowing stories of the ICU, and pull at everyone’s heartstrings, and process the most terrifying days of my life through the words I write here?

I don’t want to go there.

The truth is, I haven’t known what to write. You see, food has changed for me, and for the Chef, since this sweet, feisty creature entered our lives. In the hospital, we lived on cold hash browns and styrofoam cups full of Dr. Pepper from the cafeteria. Since we have been home, I have been grabbing handfuls of food I could reach before the baby woke up. Bananas. Walnuts. Tuna straight from the can. And sometimes, corn chips gone stale with salsa from a jar. Garbanzo beans with lemon juice and olive oil feels like an elaborate meal when you are learning how to be with a newborn.

I’m not cooking much, these days. I miss it. I know it will come back. But there’s no time  and I have subsisted on too little sleep for weeks on end  to set up a mise en place or create new dishes by flourishing flavors. Certainly, I don’t feel like the younger woman who started this site, who wrote every day, voluminously, about food history and new grains. There’s spit-up on my shirt more often than salt.

But in these surreal, beautiful days, food has meant more to me than ever before. While the Chef and I huddled in a hospital room, a pint of blueberries, brought to us by a friend, sustained us for hours one afternoon. Within the sterile air and beeping machines, the coolness against our lips and the smell of loamy earth lifted us out of that place.

When Little Bean was a few weeks old, we tucked her in the carrier and walked her around the farmers’ market on a late Saturday morning. The smell of Red Haven peaches was enough to make us giddy. But more so, we met friends, and ran into fans of this site, and talked to our favorite farmers about how having children shoves us into a different world. We both left grinning through our exhaustion.

And at nearly 5 pm one day a few weeks ago, after the baby had needed to be cuddled for hours on the couch, I stumbled into the kitchen. Knowing she would slumber in her swing for at least an hour, I fired up the stove. Pasta water bubbling, goat cheese smearing on my fingers, and tomatoes from the garden releasing their acrid smell  these all felt like celebrations. And so, as the evening began, I finally ate my lunch, on the couch, next to a burp cloth, a binky, and my cell phone. I needed it close by, to answer it immediately, in case the sing-songy ring tone woke her up. It didn’t. That pasta tasted like victory.

Mostly, though, I look down at Little Bean eating, her mouth gulping in great swallows. She looks up at me with her blue-grey eyes, and I realize I don’t need anything more. This is food at its most elemental, without any adjectives.

Food is how we live, and grow.

And so, I don’t know what I’ll be writing here. I just know that I’ll be writing. September this year means a return to writing. Aside from taking notes on some days about the baby and her funny habits (believe me, most from the first week are incoherent), I have not written anything finished since those urgent postings when we lived in the hospital. I don’t know where I’m going, but I have to go there now. I could easily allow the days to slip through my fingers, focusing only on her.

But I don’t want my daughter to have a mama who doesn’t do the work she loves.

So I guess I’ll figure out my new voice as I lay words down on this white space. I know, as always, that I want to focus on the light. And the food, in whatever form it arrives.

I had no idea what life would be like before our daughter arrived, yelling out her song. I didn’t know what I would write when I sat down this evening to fill this space.

Here I am.

Gluten-free Lasagna

On the days the Chef works at the restaurant, food is somewhat haphazard around here. Whatever I can grab and hold in my hand while feeding a baby, or patting her down to sleep, satisfies me. In the evenings, he has been bringing food home from the restaurant. Last night, we had braised balsamic rabbit for dinner while watching Jon Stewart.

I know. I appreciate that not everyone with a newborn has such a gift as this.

But on the days he does not work, we tag team taking care of the baby. Papas are just as important as mamas, after all. And we work in the kitchen when she sleeps, putting together foods that can last me all week. Like this pan of lasagna he made for us last weekend.

There are a thousand ways to make lasagna. Some of us like a splash of red wine vinegar in the sauce, or honey. Nutmeg adds an extra zing. A pat of butter can make a sauce as smooth as the sun slipping down behind the horizon.

But this sauce, this lasagna, is fairly straightforward. And to my surprise, thats why I like it even more than the fancy pans I have eaten before. The sauce tasted light, with each component part singing out, instead of stifled into one taste.

Of course, you can add or subtract whatever you want. This is a start. Everything is starting now. Do with it what you will.

I can tell you, however, that this lasagna  cold  makes a damn fine lunch with a baby.

Brown off the meat with 2 tablespoons of the oil in a hot pan, on medium to high heat. When it is evenly browned, drain the meat. Set aside.

Pour the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil into the pan. Toss in the onions and garlic. Sautee over medium heat until the onions and garlic are translucent. Next come the herbs. Sauté until fragrant.

Scoop in the fresh tomatoes first, and sauté them for three to four moments. Slide in the canned tomatoes. Add ¼ can of water. Simmer for 25 minutes over medium heat.

When the sauce has reduced and begun to thicken, put ¾ of the sauce in a blender and puree it. Return the pureed sauce to the pan and fold into the chunky sauce. Spoon in the browned meats. Simmer for 5 to 10 minutes.

Find your favorite gluten-free lasagna sheets (we used Ener-G foods in this case, but Tinkyada is great too). Cook them according to the package directions, minus a few minutes. (Most pasta companies direct you to overcook the pasta!)

Spread a thin layer of sauce on the bottom of a large casserole pan. Add a layer of lasagna noodles, then mozzarella cheese, freshly grated parmesan cheese, and then sauce. Repeat until the pan is filled. Make sure the last layer is cheese.

Bake at 425° for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the lasagna is golden brown and the cheese is bubbly on top.

Serve.

Feeds 8.

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118 comments on “a fresh start”

I’m so entranced by your words, you could write about car parts and I’d still smile whenever I saw a fresh RSS feed was available. And I’m guessing many of your readers would also say the same. So please don’t feel pressure to keep this from becoming a mommy blog. Just write about what inspires you, whether it’s light or the changing of the seasons or local produce or a baby’s smile. We’ll keep reading, absorbing, and delighting in the ways you help us to see this world in a new way. We know you’ll show us interesting connections, unusual pairings, inspired ideas, all borne out of your own experiences and the life you’re creating each day. We’re just happy to have a window into the process of creation. –Julie

Thank you so much for continuing to share so generously of yourself on your journey of discovery. Discovery of food and living fully without gluten, your journey of love and your journey into parenting.

Your words are so rich, heartfelt, beautifully crafted and filled with such awe and joy it is a pleasure to be with you on this adventure.

I knew long ago when you spoke of how you would have this blog after she came that it would change. Parenthood IS all the cliches even when we think it won’t be. It is amazing and the most wonderful gift I have ever experienced, and it colors every facet of your life. I am so happy to see that color here.

Welcome Back! I have enjoyed your guest posts, but have been looking forward to reading your beautiful words. Children indeed change the course of all of our lives, and it becomes a beautiful adventure. Write what you feel and we will all be here, joyfully awaiting the arrival of your heartfelt words.

Yes. Leftovers are just the thing when you have a newborn in the house. I’ve been hoping the Chef is making you lots of meals with leftovers, even if they’re not his favorite thing. Leftovers got me through those early days and still get me through a hectic morning with two girls demanding breakfast before I’ve had a bite of anything.

Thanks for your words and for sharing the light in your life, baby and all.

Congratulations on the birth of little bean! Best wishes and happiness to you and your new extended family- babies are the happiest news and I’m so glad to hear that she was born and you are settling in together. I just had the pleasure of visiting one of my best friends and her new baby (a new baby “celebrating” her third month birthday) and know what you mean about those smiles…

When you wrote your blog would not change after the baby and would remain only about food–that you would not “mommy blog”–I had to chuckle. And not for one second did I believe you would hold true to that promise. It sounded like one of those promises women make when they are pregnant with their first and have no idea what they don’t yet know. I had my on promise, and that was to maintain my law practice and not be “just” a SAHM. Well, I quit practicing when my son was 8 months old. I just had no idea what I didn’t yet know.

Anyone who is as passionate about food as you are (passionate about life, really) didn’t stand a chance against the quiet, powerful, intoxicating pull of an infant you love above everything else.

Welcome back! You continue to evolve, and I welcome what ever you have to share with us. I am right there with you about September, I just love the month of preserving the end of summer, canning tomatoes, freezing corn and fresh pesto. And of course getting Tina back to her academic routine. Today, I am particularly happy as the RNC LEAVES ST. PAUL. I have had enough of the loud helicopters swirling over my home which is a mere 8 blocks from the convention center. And while I was a peaceful protester, I resent the terror and damage from a group of anarchist who ran through the streets causing all kinds of trouble. I love September but fell like the first week slipped through the crack.

Shauna you could write about dishwater and I would be entranced, you are a skilled and expert wordsmith who writes about food and babies……….and life. Just keep on writing intuitively….we will read. No matter the subject. Thank you.

What was once the most important thing in your life prior to the arrival of baby gets immediately shifted. That was my experience at least. That thing, whatever it may be, is still important but it makes room for the baby who, in the first several years of her life, takes front and center. There’s a lot you can do once things settle down (it gets a LOT easier when they can sit on your hip in the sling) but there’s a lot of muddling through and making do in those early years. It sometimes feels interminable at the time, but whoosh! there it goes. It’ll all be there waiting for you when you’re ready to get back to it. All the best to you all!

Welcome back! Your guest bloggers were wonderful, we were in good hands while you were gone!

You are not the same Shauna that started this blog…so it is only natural that your stories evolve along with you. Becoming a parent challenges everything that you thought you knew about yourself. Don’t fight it, write about what feels right to you in that moment – we’ll be here reading.

Like many of the previous posters, to me reading Gluten Free Girl has never been just about food – though that works, too (-:. Your writing explores so many other subjects in a wonderful way and I enjoy the way you look at things and describe them. I’d be happy to read whatever you feel inspired to write.

After the birth of my Little Bean, who is now six, my greatest with was that someone would come set up a salad bar in my living room each morning so that I could just grab little morsels as I walked past.

I think all of us mothers knew your blog would change, how could it not when you have transformed into a mother. Your life no longer yours, your schedule given up to a little person who needs food from you in such a new and wonderful way. And how good all food tastes when you are nursing…doesn’t matter what…There is a reason some countries give mother’s a year or so of maternity leave, as they recognize the importance of being with the baby and how much it changes your life.

Your post captured me. I missed you these last few weeks when you were tending and nourishing your lovely Lucy. You sound more confident, more relaxed, becoming the loving mother you knew you always wanted to be. Lucy is lucky to have a mother like you. Please, please, can we have another of picture of this precious baby? I want to see her bigger, rounded, without tubes.

Shauna, welcome back! And I am glad to hear that Little Bean is doing well, and especially that she already doesn’t like doing the dishes. And frankly I had been hoping you WOULD share some of the snippets about her. Mommy blog, food blog, makes no difference to me; it’s your writing that keeps bringing us all back.

Welcome back and I was so happy to read bits and pieces of how Little Bean has changed your life. For me, it would seem as if something was missing if you never mentioned her. Please keep us inspired by your passion for food and life. Children are a part of both. The fondest memories I have of my children include food.

If you now write a mommy’s food blog or a foodie’s mommy blog, it’ll still work. We are all so many pieces of life collaborating together that very few of us can write truly and still only speak to one subject at a time. That natural inability to segregate has been true of you before, and the baby just adds a new element. 🙂

Welcome back Shauna! Your blog has always been an exploration of the transformation of your life, it included food, but that was just icing. Write what you feel, we love you, your family, and your words that soothe us. Lisa G.

It may sound silly, but food is love, love is food. I can imagine the tidal wave of love carrying and sustaining you as much as any food through this rebirth of yourself as a new person.Your writing remains as lyrical as ever, detailing the scent and sights of autumnal change, the entering of that sweetest season between summer and true fall. As a newly gluten free person your blog was a lifeline of gourmet pleasure revelling in taste and life. As a newly pregnant lady I take comfort in rereading your personal exploration and path to meeting little bean. It helps understand the unbelievable humanness of the condition, where we all come from. It makes my own path a little less twisty and rocky, remembering that women have traveled it throughout time. And to witness the transformation of your self into motherhood, throughout which you maintain your own voice nonetheless through tone and lilt of the writing, well that helps too.Thank you for sharing it all.

I am sitting at my desk looking out at the lovely birch trees turning yellow as fall is in full bloom in Alaska! I can hardly get anything done as I feel compelled to take the dog out for one more walk. All the moms knew how much little bean would change your life in ways you couldn’t even imagine! We all know we will love our little ones, but can’t even imagine the depth of that new feeling! So, enjoy it and write and do what you do!

Ms. James, I was cracking up thinking about those days you taught me at Vashon High (not that I remember much from them!)and how much things have changed now that you are a mama (it is the best)- only for the better of course. Enjoy every moment because they do go by so fast!

Welcome back, Shauna! Although I have read the blog for months, this is my first comment. First, I want to congratulate you on Lucy’s arrival and health. Second, I want to thank you. After years of feeling poorly, I began to suspect gluten might be the cause. At the beginning of the year, I purchased your book, and was entranced. I immediately began reading your website as well. Today, my doctor confirmed what I’ve suspected for months: no more gluten for me. Ever. I think this would have been much harder to take, had I not been delving into your book and websites for the past few months. So thanks for making this easier; for allowing me to celebrate the fact that I can become healthier, rather than lamenting the gluten that I’m giving up!

Welcome back! Like many others, I’ve been anxiously awaiting the fresh RSS alert that you are home. I’ve never commented on your posts, even though I’ve been reading consistently for awhile and most of your words give me chills when I read them. I just want to say, congratulations, you are an inspiration to me in more ways than you know. Thank you.

ALSO, I agree with everyone that no matter what this blog becomes, we’ll continue to read.

I am really enjoying your details about your Little Bean. It brings back such fond memories. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ate more cold meals than hot – those little ones seem to wake up and need you just as dinner is ready. I wonder if you will start being captured by your daughter’s experiences with food.

All I can say here is that everything and I mean EVERYTHING changed for me when my first daughter was born. I wouldn’t be surprised if your little girl reintroduces you to everything you knew and loved about food before you met her. Thank you for sharing….it’s always so wonderful to hear stories from another mother.

hi there,i don’t have a baby or a famous blog, so i cannot quite identify with that sense of feeling torn about what to write. however, as a longtime reader of your blog, i can say, with a great deal of conviction, that most people probably don’t mind if you want to write about your baby. in fact, many will probably enjoy any anecdotes you share about your new role as mama-bear. (if you’re concerned about safeguarding lucy’s privacy since she doesn’t have a say in the matter, then that is a different situation altogether!) if you really love food, then you don’t have to fear that you’ll stop writing about it–it’s in your blood. it will always be there.

i guess all this is to say–write what’s in your heart, whatever it is. baby, food, neither, both, chinese gymnasts, whatever. you won’t be angering people (even if you do, it’s your blog and you can do what you want), and perhaps if you let go of any personal rules/boundaries governing what you can write, that’s when your writing will be the most natural and authentic and joyful.

you do a lovely job every time you write, no matter what you talk about. thank you for sharing your discoveries with us. –anjana, a grateful GF reader

So glad you’re back. I don’t care what you write. It’s always good and heartfelt and most of the time moving, even when discussing what might be considered mundane. There are no rules and it seems what all your readers want is that glimpse of your spirit as you so generously let us, whom you don’t even know and who are at no risk, into your thoughts and life. My interest lies in your perspective, whatever you write about, whether food or anything else. So I hope you feel unconstrained and let your mind and your fingers free as you type.

hello – i am fairly new to your blog having come just as the little bean arrived. i have read some of your back posts though 🙂

i am thrilled to have found you and happy, as your faithful readers, to read all you have to say. i happen to live at the cross roads of your current passions… i have celiac and am always looking for delicious, healthy food ideas from someone loving the gluten-free life they are living (not some well meaning dietitian) AND my girlfriend and i are trying to have a baby so the little ones are much on our mind.

Welcome home, Shauna… I echo every others ‘I KNEW your blog would change more than even YOU did’….

I absolutely love your quiet way with words… You illustrate your thoughts so well I could just read them over and over….

Welcome back, and I am so glad to hear that all is well with your baby girl. Enjoy these moments, they fly by so quickly. I can still remember those 3 am ‘calls’ 10 years later… I cherished them then, and I cherish the memories now… My daughter was such a wonderful baby, maybe because I was an ‘older’ mom like you are… I knew that these moments of absolute exhaustion would be so fleeting…. I am glad you know the same!

I love your writing and complete honesty. I remember the post when you said you would keep this blog just about food. I knew that there was no way for you to know the depth of love you would feel for your little girl. Nobody can describe it to you until you hold your firstborn for the first time. It is all consuming and all of us moms here know completely how you feel. If this blog turns into a baby blog I will continue to read it because I love your writing.Congratulations again!

I agree with Julie. It’s all I can do to wait until next Thursday. Between you and Molly, my craving for well written prose about food (or babies) is satisfied. Those first few months of being at home with the baby are all consuming. Then, your brain starts to crave thoughts outside of diapers, boobs, and spit up. She’ll always be the center of your life, but all those other things that mean so much to you will catch up eventually.

I’m going to try your sauce recipe this weekend. I often use corn tortillas as my pasta substitute. It comes out tasting like a delicious Mexican lasagne.

Our son was born around Christmas of last year, so his newborn months were in the winter. We are so used to eating soup when it’s cold, but soup is basically impossible to eat when you’re holding a crying baby (colic for first 4m). We reverted to casseroles, which we still enjoy to this day! Thanks for your inspiration, you sound like a wonderful mama!

I can’t believe you can write so eloquently while enduring such sleep deprivation! Those first few months are humbling, among other things. You continue to inspire on many levels. Thank you for that, Shauna. What a lucky little girl Lucy is to have you and the Chef as parents!

I laughed about the baby basket next to the dishwasher. A friend’s secret for getting her babies to sleep was to put the baby in a wicker laundry basket full of towels, warm from the dryer. She’d put the basket on top of the dryer and let it “rumble” the baby to sleep.

Maybe that’s the reason so many new homes have a laundry room right off the kitchen.

I just want you to know that I cherish your words…I love that you are a teacher, a writer, a wife, and a mommy. I have been watching all summer for your return…mostly because I love to read great writing. So to me, it doesn’t matter what you write…I don’t live gluten free, I don’t have a newborn… I am happily married and my brother is a chef.

I borrowed your book from the library and couldn’t get enough of it, then I ordered through a local bookstore. I had to wait to get it because I was cooking at camp all summer. Then finally today I picked up and I was so excited to read it, all the words came tumbling back like familiar friends. I can’t wait to try some of the recipes.

welcome to motherhood! your blog has helped me stay creative & GF despite my 2 year old – and for that I am grateful. We – your readers – will support you as you find your way as a mother AND a food lover. Those are interchangeable roles – some days I could eat my son for breakfast, with his delicious little shoulders and cheeks.

and an aside – as a Seattle mom, I assume you know about First Weeks? If not, check it out (Community Birth and Family Center – meets at Great Starts). Lovely place to be nurtured with your babe!

What a beautiful post; I’m so glad to have you back. I so look forward to seeing how your thoughts and experiences of food change with a baby in your life– a path I hope to be on soon. Can I express my hope that this evolves into a ‘food mommy’ blog?!

Your blog can be whatever you wanted to be because all of life informs your writing.

Funny, I started my blog, CityMama, as a way to share my experiences being an urban mom in a big city. But I also love to cook. I struggled with the opposite–if I start writing about food, will I be a food blogger? WIll that turn readers away? Will I be taken seriously if I write about food because I am a mom? Because there seems to be a feeling among some in the food blog world that moms are all about feeding their kids macaroni and cheese and chicken nuggets. I have read it on food blogs, heard it said at BlogHer, and I was insulted.

So set about to change that perception. I started slowly, writing about making my own babyfood, sharing how yes, a 9 month old can eat chicken cooked with ginger and coconut milk or sweet potatoes mashed with orange–or at least mine did. And they loved it.

I started CityMama 4 years ago writing about one thing, now it’s about something else entirely. Cooking, shopping for beautiful food, throwing parties, and eating were a huge part of my life before I had kids, why stop now? Now my food writing lives happily alongside parenting stories (though my kids are older now so I dont feel like sharing every miraculous and wonderful aspect of their lives). A friend said it best, my blog is about life, love, and what we ate.

I refused to be categorized. I am a multi-faceted person and my blog reflects that…and I’ve only gained readers because of it.

I look forward to coming here because of your writing and photos. Your having a baby doesn’t change that a bit! Don’t pigeonhole yourself–Gluten Free Girl can be whatever you want it to be and it will only be all the richer for it.

I think it’s hard transitioning from something you believed you wouldn’t stray from (mainly food), but as you wonderfully stated your heart has been split open.

As I see it, your journey into motherhood will bring you into the kitchen and bring you to places you didn’t imagine you would arrive, so please share. I’m here for your stories and your recipes are always the cherry on top.

You have just experienced what all new mothers experience. One never knows this shift will come until they are there. Just write, Shauna. It’s your gift, and our lives are better because you do. I’m really happy for you and enjoy every post of yours. It sounds like you are doing exactly what is right for you and your precious family. – Debra

Your post brought tears to my eyes. Your blog may change, but it this growth may be for the best. Just lovely. I just found out that I am gluten-intolerant. I sure hope you stick around. But, if not, I am sure the recipes and postings you’ve already written will enrich my life. Thanks for this post and this blog. And I wish you and the Little Bean family the best.

I’m so glad you are back to writing, and all is well with little bean baby. I would be happy to hear stories about her, food, life, diapers. I’ll keep reading either way, and I actually love the baby stories on mommy blogs!

Welcome back! When you wrote two months ago that you would leave little bean out of the blog, I giggled and said, “Yeah right!” I just had my second child in April and she and my son consume my life! They are the reason I am currently gluten free while breastfeeding. My son was allergic to wheat so I am consuming allergens for my daughter’s sake. I would have never thought my life would go this way but this is where they have led me. Children do that to us as you are learning. Just write where she leads you as a mother, wife, author, and amazing GF cook.Thank you for also capturing what a Seattle Sept. is like. It is so true. I am just happy to be looking at son today.Keep up the good work!

It feels like you will never have the time to cook again but you WILL! Things will just change – she will get more predictable, you will get better at your new job and you will just have to get creative with your timing and your expectations. I have two little ones and am a personal chef and a blogger and somehow I make it all work. You will too! Just give yourself some space and some kindness to indulge in what feels right right now. It all changes so fast.

Well I have always told all of my friends before they had children, that if they didn’t want to they shouldn’t, and if they did, they should never miss the chance. You definitely fall into the later catagorie. Breath in and enjoy every minute of it, because it is ever-changing. Thank you for the beautiful blog and just remember most of us moms love hearing about how wonderful life is after a baby. It changes your life evermore for the positive.

Now you will just have to invent all kinds of kid friendly recipes to share on your site. Paula

Welcome back! I so enjoy your writing, that whatever you write about, I know that it will be warmly received.

You are a mom now, and I don’t think anyone would expect you to never speak of dear Little Bean. She’s made a big impact in your life and especially in your heart. And that’s where you write from, whether you’re writing about food, or NICU, or the light in your living room.

I look forward to your posts, no matter what they might be about. And as for cooking, you will find your rhythm in the kitchen again. When my son was new, I wandered around lost for about 3 months before I realized, ‘oh, I need to cook now’. And it all came back to me and he adapted, and now he helps me in the kitchen. So keep her close, show her the way, and before you know it, you’ll have a helper of your own, and a lifetime of stories!

You know, we all swear things that we won’t do in our lives, whether about how we’ll raise our children, or not let falling in love change who we are, or pursue our careers or bla, bla, bla. If your blog is food, and life, and writing about how the two intersect for you and make your life fuller, maybe that means you’ll be a bit of a mommyblogger. The term is twee and annoying, but is it really so bad?

Reminder to self: do not read Gluten-Free Girl before bed;it will make your crave really, really good food at an ungodly hour. As a “been there, done that reader; hold that baby every chance you get and as I tell my daughters when they are tired after a long day of caring for their babies, “the days will crawl, but the years will fly”Lovey

My babies are 41 and 39 but I still remember those early days as the happiest of my life.

I remember with my first one thinking that if I kept notes, I’d see a pattern such that I’d get more sleep and more time to do things. Of course that was silly.

There are probably too many humorous “mommy” writings but I don’t think enough explaining why mothering should take 24 hours a day. I’m sure current and future readers would be interested in any insights you have about this.

It’s so good to hear from you and know you all are doing well! Those six weeks fly by, don’t they? I am in agreement with everyone else. When I read your words pre-Lucy, I thought hmmm and smiled. We can’t separate ourselves from our babies. As soon as that little one enters your life, it becomes something else entirely. Your posts have always talked about food and life with family and friends, so it should go on doing that. We will all love your blog, whatever direction it takes. Do what feels right. Usually the path we start down is not at all what we expected, but still it turns out to be a very, very good one. Looking forward to your upcoming posts as always!

I remember the day when my son was 5 or 6 weeks old and I got a chance around two pm to get to the kitchen and make a homemade gluten-free waffle. I sat there in my big robe and the waffle was so good and I was so happy. My good friend who was pregnant with her first stopped by and teased me for eating breakfast so late in the day I told her she would understand soon. You just can not imagine how it will be and how things change once you have that little baby in your family. Make food whenever you can and just enjoy everything! Welcome back!

i share the sentiments all the others have been sharing thus far and add, 'just write what comes to you naturally'… your words do so many things for us, such as, entertain, enlighten, inspire, to just name a few… your blog will evolve, just like you & the chef, with lucy, are evolving too…and i know that i'll be here reading whatever you're sharing about life, love, & food…

That first year.Oh forget it, those first 4 months I would have gladly eaten nothing but sawdust in exchange for a nice hot shower every day. I would have gladly drunk watered down glue for a full nights sleep.With my first I was in the first year of my own baking business and like an idiot I was up and baking the next day after birth. What was I thinking?So mostly I ate batter…lots of batter. It was there and abundant.No wonder she turned out so sweet.Oh, you’ll find your voice and write you shall!

Thank you for writing such an eloquent post on my birthday. It was a wonderful present. I read it as I ate a local peach and occasionally looked at my first sonogram film tacked up on the fridge from the night before. Food and babies. Babies and food. Such elemental things, right? Beautiful.

I have found over the past 16 months (9 of pregnancy and 7 of childrearing) that a woman who is also a mother must accept that her life will be filled with certain seasons. By necessity, this time of my life is spent being fascinated with all things related to infant care, including now recently all things regarding what, when, and how to feed my son. Eating (gluten an casein-free) during pregnancy, during the early stages of infancy, and now as I struggle to maintain adequate breast milk supply and simultaneously introduce my son to the wonderful world of foods (taking care to do all I can to prevent his developing similar food sensitivities) occupies nearly all my time. You’ll find that as Lucy grows, you may write about her and food at the same time: about how to introduce her to tastes and textures, avoiding the occurrence of /testing for the presence of food sensitivities, etc.

Also, I second that I’ll keep reading your site no matter what you write about – though of course as the mother of a young son, I wouldn’t mind the “mommyblogging” bit. 🙂

It does change everything, your direction obviously changes – certain things seem unimportant now, others way more important than they used to.

What is awesome though is watching your old loves and wants come back slowly as your baby gets older.

In the first 6 weeks of my son, I hardly cooked anything interesting at all – food just seemed like fuel then – the first time it has ever seemed that way for me. My blog actually helped me get back to my old creative food ways, and has now been the most wonderful way to introduce our son (now 20months) to new foods and flavors.

I can tell ya, taking your kid around the farmers markets is one of the happiest times. EVER. Watching him interested in all different fruits and vegs, swaying to the music being played. Smiling at anonymous people. It is awesome.

I am honestly so happy for you guys – you have some amazing times ahead of you.

As a recently diagnosed celiac, your blog has inspired me. I have been trying to keep up a positive attitude about everything, but none the less found my self in tears in a chain grocery store frustrated that I couldn’t eat a thing. After a quick reality check, and a short drive to much more accommodating New Seasons, I gained some sense, and now by some fate in the world I have found your blog. I am not only inspired by your outlook on life, but found a special connection in the fact that you are also a teacher. I am excited for the prospect of feeling better and after just a few days of being gluten free, I can attest that this is a welcome challenge. Thank you for your insight and inspiration!

Welcome back Shauna. I don’t have any children, but am still interested in what is going to be on the spoon for little Lucy. I love the idea of apple sauce sitting there waiting for her! The way I see it, you and the Chef are ideally placed to influence the diet of babies and children – and not just those who need to be gluten-free. Didn’t you mention a book deal? My husband really appreciates all my gluten-free food. He says you have made me experiment more and our diet is now healthier than it has ever been. Thank you from Wales, UK

Shauna, it is your ever-present focus on the light that makes your writing about all aspects of life, including gluten-free food, so inspiring. Your passion for life is what helps people with celiac work with their situation. Of course the recipes and food advice are invaluable, but it’s the spirit of your writing – it’s the YES – that really helps us feel more positive about our efforts to live a healthy, happy gluten-free life. Lots of love to you and your family!

Shauna, as much as your journey with food has made this a “food” blog, you are at your heart a writer. Write what you feel like writing…if it’s about Lucy, great. If it’s about food, fine. If it’s about, um, politics? that’s fine too. Your blog should give you joy…don’t worry about it turning into this, that or the other thing. Just let it be a place for you to be. We’ll all be here reading. And I don’t even have celiacs!

Whatever you choose to write, we will enjoy reading!I have to say as a teacher, reading this blog inspires me to keep cooking even at this time of year!Good luck on the sleep and enjoy kissing that sweet baby!

this is exactly how I felt after having my little girl. totally lost but also found, a lot fuzzy, completely starving, feeling like I couldn’t feed myself well enough to feed her well enough.

I love reading your honest words. You’re coming out of the most difficult days. Just wait: before you know it she’ll be sitting in a Bumbo chair on the countertop while you pretend to be on Food TV doing a cooking class, telling her exactly what you’re doing step by step. Or maybe that’s just me 🙂

It doesn’t matter what you write. Your use of words is great and I enjoy reading your blog even though I am not gluten free. I think the lasagna sounds great. I will try it.

I know all about feeding yourself when you have a newborn and how hard it is. I had one -12 years ago. Almost 13 next month.

Just do what you can do. Know that what you do for yourself will help your baby too. be good to yourself. You deserve it. Get sleep when the little bean sleeps. When you need to get things done, put the baby in a swing or rocker and get busy. That is what I did when Trev was tiny.

Well, shoot, Shauna. You’ll just have to crack the book of Life, and smell the fresh and funny love that all these people have for you and your many talents. Food, writing, generosity… the whole package. Ineffable is as great a word for the whole kit and caboodle as anything, isn’t it?

And children – one of my dearest friends describes it as having your heart walk around outside your body on two legs.

So, I guess as long as the heart is out there, the stomach might as well keep it company… (or the mental stomach you invoke in the postings.)

Glad to hear your voice again. It sounds great, thoughtful, and blooming. Thought about you and the family while we were up on Mt Rainier today, watch marmots munch greenery. (As in, ‘wonder if they’ve had a chance to go for a walk’…)

It’s so great to hear your voice again. And you know what, we WANT to hear the voice that is you, that is now imbued with Lucy’s life. We get that things have changed, we get that you’ve changed, and we want to hear all about it when you want to share.

I felt very similarly when we brought Noe home. We used to bond with our friends over what we were cooking, what we were growing, what we’d found at the farmer’s market. We’d spend a good deal of time concocting menus and thinking up new spins on dishes. That was food to me.

But once Noe was home with us, food became the look of content on her face as she bit down on a sungold from what daddy had dubbed “the candy tree.” It’s become our weekly visits to the farmers’ market and how we know she’s going to come home covered in peach juice and blueberry and God knows what else from the little treats people sneak her. And, lately, it’s become these precious moments when we’re gathered again with our friends around the table, when Noe wakes with a sleepy wail, and we trundle her out to join the crowd by candlelight. She’ll lay there, all cocooned in her blankie, head resting against my shoulder, arms around my neck, and just listen to the banter and laughter between friends (sometimes she’ll even sneak a bite of pie). I love that that is how Noe is going to grow up knowing food and its power upon us.

Hey Shauna, congrats on your new baby! It must be crazy, tiring and reward 😉Recently i’ve been thinking about opening a blogger, but i don’t now what to title it.like how you don’t know what to write…. i don’t know how to define who i want to be through a few simple words where people can see and know me.

you are still a gluten-free girl, but no longer just a girl. you are a women in love, married, a wife and a mother. this is your blog that journals your life, your love, and also the changes that comes with it.

I’m looking forward to your writings. I love reading blogs with good writings. no matter what it is, just know that your readers have come to know you more than just the gluten-free girl. and we’re excited to be here to witness this new part of your life!

Welcome back! I read this blog because I adore the things you do with words and your perspective on life, not to mention your passion for food and life in general. Reading your posts feels like sitting down and catching up with an old friend. Right now I find more than ever I am struggling to say YES to things in my life and learning to let go of what I think things should be. Coming here and reading your posts helps me with that process in some way.

So follow your own wonderful advice and say YES to your writing, no matter what topic takes form! Let go of what you intended to keep your posts to and instead let them flow in the moment. This blog has constantly evolved as you have through these past few years, it’s only natural that it continue to do so.

I have been lurking in your journal for a while. Like many of the others commenting, I love your writing. I just started my own blog and I referenced this post. I hope you don’t mind. Thank you for being such an inspiration, both with food and with your writing.

First, we called my daughter “Bean” for years. Then we called our dog, “Bean Dog.” Small world. I love how you promised you wouldn’t become a mommy blog but you have been split wide open. I love how whatever expectations people have of parenthood they are turned upside down. Enjoy every crazy moment!

I remember a time over 3 years ago when a friend and I swore we would never be one of those moms who would talk about nothing but their kids. Now when we get together and talk about our kids (I have a Bean and a Boo) we laugh at that, because when you are so ferociously proud, amazed and amused at the life you have helped create it’s hard not to want to talk about them all the time. I have always loved food but did not become obsessed with it until I had kids…..they change you in ways you can’t even imagine and all of it is good. Keep writing!

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Welcome

Hi. My name is Shauna James Ahern. I am alive.
I have been alive since August of 1966. Or, should
I say, I have been on this earth since then.